Location can be one of the main factors. Since I was born my grandmother has been living in Laventille. Paris Boulevard to be exact. Now from all the reviews we know that it isn't the safest of areas in my country. But that shouldn't stop a grandmother and child relationship. Don't get me wrong, we spent time with our Trini grandparents. I was the terror in the relationship though. Not one to conform we butted heads a lot. Infact I think her pressure was the highest when I was around.You see visiting Laventille wasn't exactly fun times. We were rid of the ability to have our own normal space. No proper water. No mommy in the kitchen. Just my granny whose quick words would scare you into a corner. Yea right.

I would always remember that bathroom. No light, one pipe so that means no hot water. At 6 yrs hot water was God to me. So yunno who don't want to bathe? Man, my uncle would put the water on for me and I would just stand by the door for a good five minutes. Enough time to fake a bade. That was until my granny decided to check in on me one time. No choice but to bade!!

Another time we (my sisters and I) decided that we had to eat out some portugals. Usually, at home we would dispose of these outside since at home we had a lot of greeneries that made compost heaps. In this concrete jungle called "Lavantee" aint no greenery. So instead of smartly throwing them into a bag we decided to litter the yard. (Well the "we" part I think should be dealt with the older ones... I was the last.) And when I say LITTER I mean LITTER. Well I think my Granny had an aneurysm that day. On the hot scorching galvanize we had to go out there and pick up every skin of portugal that was thrown out. With a litany of cussing and boofing we worked a CEPEP program.

Yet another time she was visiting in Tobago and bat flew into my room. I was attending High School at the time and she insisted that I should just go take it up and throw it outside. And I insisted (as a typical teenager who thinks their Grandmothers is two inches short of a straight jacket) that I was not going into that room until the next day. My lady grab me and take me into the room, pick up the bat and assisted me in getting it outside. And this stage she had to be Mother Lakshmi because she had me in a grip, the bat in a grip AND was pushing me to hold the bat while she was opening the window.

And another thing was my grandfather (who for most of my life spent his time "sick" because of his relationship with alcohol) and his marble in a bottle collection. Well oh gosh. I used to want to have a ball with that and my grandmother used to want to ball me up when I was done with it. Marbles used to be everywhere but back in the bottle. I cannot tell you how much stones I put on that bottle just to make back the amount.

So due to these and other instances our relationship was a bit strained. Sometimes I would go to Trinidad and bounce her up in town and it would be like long lost friends and not grandmother and child. Other times we wouldn't have spoken to each other in months to years. My father never pushed it. My mother never pushed it until not too long ago.

So after more than 8 years I was back at Paris Boulevard to visit my dear grandmother. The steps was the same. The gate was the same. Walking into the house was the same. I even peeped in the room looking for my granddad. There were two differences. One was my uncle who is a pan maker had over 300 pans all over the place. Some done, half way done, in the process of done. Lol And my grandmother had no idea who I was.

You see she now has Alzheimer's. I have to keep reminding her that "I'm the last one" (dunno if that is a good memory or not). She looks at me like it's the first time in her life she's seeing the face. She keeps reminding me that I'm so pretty. It's sad. I want her to remember all the trouble I gave. I want her to remember all the bawl I bawl at the top of the steps when my parents were leaving to go. I want her to remember the bat, the marbles, the portugal. I want her to remember me in the bathroom. I want her to remember my Dad!!! She remembers my uncle. He has been living there all his life. She remembers to cuss him everyday that he "ent good for nuttin". I wish she could remember to cuss my dad too. I wish I had had a little more time